


It's Three In The Morning

by confetti_ina_coffin



Series: Late Night Fights Bring Out The Best In Us Apparently [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Crying, M/M, Sad, Sad Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2017-11-21
Packaged: 2019-02-05 06:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12789096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/confetti_ina_coffin/pseuds/confetti_ina_coffin
Summary: “It's three in the morning,” Lance growled.  He leaned heavily against the doorframe, staring at Keith.  The shorter man was shaking from the cold, only wearing a thin shirt and jeans.  In the dark, Lance could have sworn he had a shoe missing.





	It's Three In The Morning

**Author's Note:**

> For my friend Emrys
> 
> sorry not sorry dude
> 
> Based off a prompt on Tumblr. It was a dialogue prompt that was just "It's three in the morning," and I made this

“It's three in the morning,” Lance growled.  He leaned heavily against the doorframe, staring at Keith.  The shorter man was shaking from the cold, only wearing a thin shirt and jeans.  In the dark, Lance could have sworn he had a shoe missing.  
  


“I know, but--I needed to talk to you, Lance--I'm-,” Keith began to stutter out, but Lance held up a hand to him.  

 

“Do you want to come in?” he asked.  Keith hesitated and then nodded.

 

Stepping inside the small apartment was a relief to Keith.  The warmth was heaven after being outside for so long.  He sighed, rubbing his hands on his arms to savor the heat.

 

Lance wandered into the kitchen and started coffee in the maker.  Keith followed slowly.

 

The two stood in silence for a while, Lance watching the coffee trickle slowly, and Keith watching Lance nervously.

 

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Lance sighed.  “What do you want, Keith?” he asked.  He still didn't look at Keith, and his voice was thick with exhaustion and sadness.  Keith’s stomach stuttered with guilt.

 

“Lance, I.. I wanted to talk to you,” he replied quietly, jumping when Lance turned to him.

 

“What on Earth do you want?” he demanded, voice echoing off the walls in the dark.  Keith could only stare for a moment before answering.  “I wanted to ask.. About--you.”  Lance only raised an eyebrow in judgment.

 

Keith laughed nervously, but there was no humor in it.  “I'm sorry, I just--wanted to know?”

“Wanted to know  _ what _ , Keith?” Lance shouted.  The other flinched but didn't step back.  “How many explanations do I have to give you?”

 

“Just the truth!” Keith shouted back.  Lance’s mouth snapped shut.  Keith stared back at him.

“What do you mean?” He asked quietly.  The coffee machine dinged.  Neither moved.

 

“You keep lying to me, Lance,” Keith murmured.  God, he hoped Lance couldn't hear his voice shaking.  Summoning false confidence, Keith tipped his chin up.  “I always know when you’re lying, Lance.”

 

The two stood in silence again, each staring the other down.  The air was thick with tension, the only sound was each of their faint breathing.  Finally, Lance broke the silence.   
  


“You always  _ knew  _ when I was lying,” he murmured.  He lifted his hand to Keith's cheek, and his breath hitched.  “And I still always know when you’re bluffing.”

 

Lance pushed past him, making his way to the living room.  Keith stood for a moment, shocked, before he surprised himself when a sob ripped from his throat.

 

Lance turned back to him, looking at him from in front of the couch.  “I don't understand what else you want!  I've told you! I'm not-- I don't…”

 

“I.. I never stood a chance did I?”

 

Lance looked up at him.  Keith wiped a tear from his face.

 

“Like… A real chance?”

 

He stepped forward but looked away.  How could he have thought he stood a real chance?  A fair chance?

 

“That's the thing, Keith,” Lance murmured, catching Keith's attention again.  Said man sniffled, wiping away more tears.

 

“You  _ did  _ have a chance.  But that--it was so long ago, and I can't-”

 

“It's fine,” Keith murmured.  He didn't even try to stop his voice from shaking this time, there was no point.  Lance looked at him with sad eyes, his own starting to water too.

 

After a moment, Keith composed himself.  He looked around the house, still dimly lit.  The smell of coffee was somewhat fresh in the air, and it was probably still warm, but Keith felt as though he would vomit.

 

“I,” he began, “am going.. To go home.”  Lance shrugged noncommittally.

 

Keith turned back to the door, nodding his head.

 

“I’ll..”  _ see you later _ , that's what Lance wanted to say.  Because he did want to see him later.  How could he not?

 

No, Lance didn’t.. He didn't love Keith anymore.  He's not sure, as bad as it sounds, he ever did.  

 

Keith was someone to fill the vacant gap of someone he did love.  But he had grown tired of pretending.  That’s what he told himself, but he was too scared to tell Keith.

 

But he didn't lie to Keith!  He would never.  Keith really did have a chance.  Lance felt it in his heart whenever they went out to dinner, whenever they laid on the couch watching movies, stayed up late talking about everything and nothing.  The possibility was there.  He wasn't in love, but he could have been.  And that's what hurt.

 

But Keith understood what Lance meant, and nodded.  “Yeah,” he said.  “Maybe.”

 

The shorter man walked to the door, his footsteps radiating through the apartment, proving to Lance that he was wearing two shoes.

 

Keith hesitated to open the door, looking around him one last time.  It would be the last time he saw the apartment.  He sighed.

 

“Probably not though,” Keith finished.

 

From the living room, Lance heard the front door open and close.  And then he was left in the dark.

 

He wiped his eyes, trying to stop the tears from falling, but it seemed they wouldn't.

 

He was finally free.

 

So why did he feel so..empty?


End file.
